


All Yours

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Coulson Chases Skye, Coulson gets Skye, Coulson loves Skye, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Finale, Shower Sex, Trip would've liked Skoulson, Trip's death hurts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 19:54:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3086789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place just after the ending of the mid-season finale and merely excuses for writing emo porn and wet Skoulson.  So, there you have it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Yours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hazel75](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hazel75/gifts), [zauberer_sirin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/gifts).



_Perfect timing_ , he thinks to himself.

Everything about him starts to shake, and all he can tell himself is that she's still there, behind that wall.

She's alive, she has to be.

He can't even entertain any other thoughts.

Mack pulls him back from the wall to safety as it starts to come apart in front of them.

Then he sees her, standing there, and he's paralized for a moment, just taking in the sight of her.

Something has happened to her. Her hands are balled into fists, and as her face begins to fall apart, he races towards her and pulls her into his arms, to try to draw her back, however possible, from the hell she's just been through.

The earthquake stops, and she's looking at him like she's not sure he's real.

It's not even a thought when it happens, he just does it. Kisses her quickly.

Throwing her arms around his shoulders, she kisses his neck, his cheek, the side of his mouth.

" _Trip_..."

She holds her face near his, and the words hit him, coming out raspy, like she's just finding her voice again.

He doesn't understand what happened, but he already knows.

He stares back into the room she was sealed in. It's empty.

Antoine Triplett is dead. And Skye had to watch him die.

He hugs her tightly to him and brushes his fingers over her hair, down her back, as the idea fully hits him.

"We should get out of here," Mack says from behind them.

"Okay," he says, wrapping his fingers around her arm to guide her out.

***

"You look terrible," she says.

They're standing in his office on the Bus. They haven't said a word to each other since they lifted off from San Juan.

The temple was flooded by the earthquake.

They were able to get out just in time, and the water filling the underground city managed to prevent any major destruction to the island.

It almost feels like a miracle.

He starts to unbutton the flack jacket, realizes then how much of a beating he took, and winces.

Coming down from the adrenaline.

"Let me help you," she says, reaching for him. Her hands move over the buckles gently like clockwork.

They get him out of it and Skye sets the jacket on the floor against the desk.

Her fingers touch his chin, looking over the dried blood on his face. Then her eyes are at his hairline.

"You should let Simmons check you out."

"Likewise," he says.

"What were you doing down there?" she asks.

"I had to," he admits, leaning back against the desk's edge, steadying himself with his hand.

"Oh, Coulson," she sighs, as her fingers touch his hair.

It sounds almost chiding, like he's a child that's been bad, and he can't help but smile a little.

"What am I going to do with you?"

 

***

 

They shouldn't be doing this.

He knows it.

They should be making a field report, having Simmons check her out to see whatever the Obelisk, the temple, did to her. Taking down all the details of the final moments of Antoine Triplett's life.

Trip might approve, though.

Her fingers are pressed against his face, helping the water to wash away his blood, smooth back this hair against his scalp, examining the cuts above his eyebrow and at his hairline to make sure they're not too serious.

This started with him sitting on the sink in his private bathroom. And her insisting, and holding a warm washcloth, touching it to his face, while her other hand loosened his tie, undid the buttons on his shirt.

Then fingers drew a line along his jaw and turned his face, giving him another examination, but her nails were drawing a line down his artery, to his collar bone.

He managed to stay silent, but he felt himself swallow, and then shudder as she pressed her mouth against his neck.

He knew where this was going when he had let her in.

The shower, though, was his idea.

Something about washing away all of it. Her father. The temple. 

They'd both taken off their own clothes and then she had stepped in after him, embracing him from behind, letting the warm water run over their bodies.

When her hand had touched his scar, he turned around to face her, realizing how much it was a symbol of everything he's become.

He kisses her slowly, now. Not like the panicked kiss he'd given her in the temple.

He wants her.

He'd told himself "no" so many times. But it was impossible now. To him it seemed like it would be harder to pretend it wasn't there then to just let it exist.

She wants him, too. Maybe even a little too eagerly. He knows they shouldn't be doing it right now.

He's going to, anyway.

They're going to celebrate the life they've been given. That they're both still here. That he loves her.  That it all means something.

"Skye," he says her name against her ear, and then pulls her up against him, naked and so aware of what they're doing. Like every nerve ending is on fire.

She hitches up one of her legs, and pushes him back against the wall of the shower, just on the other side of the head streaming the hot water over them.

She looks into his eyes, then lets them rove over his face. Washing away the blood with her fingertips.

His arm is holding onto her thigh, supporting her knee against the tiled wall. He waits until she gives an approving nod and kisses him again as his hand slides around her wet thigh to cup her rear, and urges her up against him as her tongue explores his mouth.

He's never wanted anyone so much. Or felt this close to something so real.

" _Skye_." He can't help it, he whispers her name again as she pulls back and he leans in to kiss her chin, totally turned on by the sight of her exposing her neck to him, tilting her head back to ask for more.

"I want you inside of me," she says, grinding her hips up against him as his tongue follows the trail of water from the shower down her collar bone between her breasts.

He groans his agreement and slides his hand down her ass, hitching her body up so he can press his fingers into her, feeling just how turned on she is when he slips them into her.

"Like this?" he askes her, giving her a dirty smile as she rides up against his fingers, her arms pressed between their chests as she teases at his mouth.

"More," she says against his lips, feeling his cock throb at the sound of her voice, pressing it up against her stomach.

He lets her down to the floor of the shower immediately and then pushes her against the back of the small space and lifts her legs again, as he slides himself into her, moving his hips quickly, even as he fights the rest of his slipping control.

"Like this?" he asks again, as he fucks her against the wall.

"Yes," she says, wrapping her legs tighter around him.

He changes the angle just a little and the silent cry on her face tells him everything he needs to know. It helps him focus. He wants to make her come, he wants to feel her coming all around him.

"I'd do anything for you," he says against her ear. "You have to know."

She pulls at his back, at the nape of his neck, and he can already feel the emotions they've been holding onto coming loose.

"I know," she gasps, kissing him as her body grips him. He makes a muffled moan into her mouth and feels himself following after her.

He lets her down, kissing her gently. Their bodies are still joined, the warm water still streaming over them.

"I'm tired," she says, pressing her lips together, then huddling against his shoulder as he slides his hands along her back.

His fingers wipe away wet strands of hair from her eyes.

"You should get some rest," he said. "You can sleep here. If you want."

She nods at him, gives him a hopeful smile, then starts to say something.

"We can talk about all of this later," he said. "I'm not going anywhere."

She took a deep breath and then let it out, relaxing as her eyes fluttered. He smiled. She seemed more like herself.

"No, it seems like you somehow always manage to find me."

"Like a homing pigeon," he said, as she touched his chest, looked more closely at his scar.

"I guess that's as much a possibility as anything else," she said, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow and shoving at his shoulder teasingly.

He leaned into her and kissed her forehead, letting his mouth linger there.

"We still have to get you washed up," he said. "I'd like the honors."

"I'm all yours. Sir."

 


End file.
